Castiel's help for a broken soldier
by CatoLaufeyson
Summary: Post- Reichenbach. With the loss of his best friend, John is breaking. He prays for his detective to come back to him. Castiel, the angel is being sent to help him find the man he loves.


**_So here's my first Johnlock. I had the idea with Cas being involved a few days ago and I think it went quite well. Still, I am curious to hear your opinions. So please tell me._**

**_-CL_**

* * *

I don't know how he could do that to me. How he could... jump. Just leaving me here alone. He was my friend. He was more than that. He was everything. He saved me, I would have probably killed myself if it weren't for him. He stepped into my life and made everything better. Of course, he got on my nerves, the life with him was dangerous, but as long as I were with him, I was fine. I had fun again, had someone to live with. I think I even fell for him. Then he jumped. He just left, telling me everything they said were true. Telling me to believe it. He just died. I had a breakdown. I had to visit my psychologist again, I am struggling with suicidal thoughts. At the same time, I am angry at him. He never tells when something is wrong, he never let me see when he suffers. And he just left me, even though he must have known what that would do to me.

For a few weeks now, I've started praying. I never really believed in god, but now, I hope he helps me. I am not sure whether to believe if Sherlock is really dead, but it hurts nevertheless. I am praying for an angel to bring him back, praying for him having faked his death. Molly, Lestrade and Ms. Hudson may have understood my grief at first, but they don't understand how I can still suffer from his death after 4 months. I hope they don't think I'm going insane. Sometimes it almost feels like Sherlock is watching over me, I hope he is. In an alive-form and not as a ghost. After praying to god or whoever there is, I feel ridiculous. How could someone bring a dead man back to life?

I get up, noticing I must have been sitting at the table for over an hour, just thinking. I didn't move out of Baker Street 221b. If Sherlock comes back, if he faked his death and is now trying to get back home, he would come here first. So I'm living in the flat by myself, waiting for a dead man to come back to me. For what feels like the thousandth time, I imagine how he would come back. I am not sure how I would greet him. Pull him into a strong hug and tell him about my feelings or punch him in the face for leaving me alone? Totally lost in my thoughts, like most time lately, I hear the ringing of the doorbell and get myself to open the door. Outside, there stands a weird-looking man in a trench coat. His hair is ruffled and he has a haunted look in his eyes. The man pulls me into a hug: "I'm so sorry for your loss John. I will help you cope with your grief and I will try to help you find him." "Who the heck are you? Get off me! How do you even know that Sherlock died? Or what my name is?" I yell, pushing the man away. He stumbles but doesn't look hurt. He stretches out his hand for me to shake it: "My name is Castiel and I am an angel of the lord. I was send here to help you. You prayed to my father and he told me to go and befriend you to help you find your friend. The detective solved many crimes and even if it was just a small part, he made the world a bit better. Most of it through making Jim Moriarty kill himself. My father doesn't want any of his friends to be as sad as you are. I know where your friend is and I will help you getting him to come back. If I may tell you, he is as broken down as you are. He misses you, and it hurts him to have done that to you." I can't believe what this man is telling me. I never really believed in anything, even though Sherlock showed me stuff that seemed impossible for a human being. "Are you really.. an.. an angel? I never thought angels existed." "As I told you, I am. And I am not lying. Sherlock Holmes, the only consulting detective, has made himself some friends in the United States of America. At the moment, I think he is solving supernatural crimes with some friends of mine, the Winchester brothers. As I told you, we will get him back. You will get him back. If you want to come with me, I have tickets for the next flight to their current whereabout. You have some time to pack your things, but I don't think you need much stuff. I told you I would help you bring him back and I do." The man who calls himself Castiel says as he pulls out two tickets from Heathrow to Seattle. I am not sure whether to believe him or not, but since there is nothing left that holds me here and I have nothing against a short vacation in the U.S., I pack some few things and send Harry a text, telling her I'll be gone for some days.

After taking a cab to the airport and catching the plane in the last 5 minutes of the boarding time, the angel and I am on our way to Sherlock. During our ride to the airport, Castiel had to explain everything all over. I am hoping he tells the truth. He doesn't seem like a liar to me, but you never know.

Long hours of flight later, we arrive at Seattle. "We will have to take a taxi to a cabin further out of the city to find them. It shouldn't take long. Prepare for the Winchesters to be a bit distrustful at first. They live 'cause they always expect weird stuff to happen. They know me, so I hope they will trust you, too." When we sit in the taxi, heading towards two strangers and my detective, who are not expecting us, Castiel adds: " Oh, and I don't know if Sherlock Holmes will be that glad to see you. After all, he did this, the faking of his death and the vanishing just to save you." I am confused, but during almost twelve hours of sitting beside him and talking to him about everything that happened to me, before and after Sherlocks "death," I grew to believe in what the angel says.

Twenty minutes later, the driver stops in front of a run-down cabin, almost hidden from our view. We're in a forest, everything looks quite lonely. Still, we here the sounds of several shotguns fire. I pay the driver with some money I got exchanged at the airport and we get out of the car. I hear some distant voices yell: "Deeeaaan! There was a car. Are we expecting anyone?" "Say it any louder, Sam... No one would think there are some guys with shotguns in the forest when there are voices yelling at each other you jerk. It may be Cas though. Eh, Brit-boy, now you can either meet our friend Cas, or shoot some stranger. You comin'?" At the sound of the two voices, I see a wide smile spread over the angels face. I turn away from the happy man and see two tall men coming from between the trees. Behind them, I see a familiar figure approaching us. That must be him. "Cas! It's you!" I hear one man yell. He runs in Cas' direction but stops promptly when he notices me. "Who's that fellow you brought there?" he says. That moment, I hear Sherlocks voice. "John!" he gasps. "How did you get here? Why didn't you stay in London? How did you find me... us?" The tall man storms towards me, looking at me suspiciously. "Ah, so he's one of your friends, Sherlock. I thought you said you had no one left back there in London." I hear the taller one of the Winchesters say as he approaches us, much slower than his brother. He gives me a warm smile and goes over to Castiel, greeting him with a short hug. His brother is still wearing that distrusting look on his face so I decide to introduce myself. "My name is John Watson. I came here to see Sherlock. You don't have anything to fear from me. I used to be an army doctor, but since my best friend faked his death, leaving me behind to believe he were dead, I am in a horrible condition. Lack of sleep and the inability to eat enough let me pay their price." I burst out, wanting Sherlock to know hat he did to me. I am quite unprepared for what follows. The detective looks like a beaten puppy, but he closes the distance between us and pulls me into a strong hug. " I am so sorry John. I did this to save you. I never thought you would be so attached to someone like me. I missed you too. I started solving crimes here, trying to get my attention away from the thoughts of you. I... I am not sure how to tell you. I am not very well with feelings. I am sorry." "Hey, you guys done? I am hungry. Since we now know who you are, maybe we could all grab some food. Oh and John, don't be angry at him. He really missed you. He didn't sleep much and if he did, he talked in his sleep. Said your name. Sometimes even called out for you. If you want him back, take him. He can't help much with supernatural incidents when he always tries to find the logical background. Even if we're talking 'bout Lucifer, angels and god. Oh, and he always makes weird experiments with body parts of the different creatures we take down." The smaller one of the Winchesters says. He has greeted Castiel when Sherlock and I part. I hear a small giggle form the man beside me. "I'm sorry John. I promise I will never leave you again." I hear the familiarly deep voice say. I pull the man back in my arms, pecking his lips with a small kiss. When we part this time, I see Cas smiling at me. He looks weirdly proud. The Winchesters look dumbfounded, but the only persons reaction I care about at the moment is Sherlocks: A broad smile. He takes my hand. "I knew you would do that. You are best in those things I can't do. You know, like sentiments and stuff. I really missed you"

* * *

**_I hope you liked it. I am sorry if the ending was too fluffy. I thought John deserves a happy end. _**

**_Please review_**

**_-CL_**


End file.
